21. Sage
SAGE
A light rain shower the next morning was not enough to deter the party from following through on their plans.
After a hearty breakfast meant to last through to their evening meal, everyone gathered in the main hall just as they’d done before their last group walk and set out together.
The only difference was that Roger, Wyndham, and Conrad joined them this time, as well as one servant carrying an armful of folded blankets and another with light refreshments.
When the path narrowed a short distance from the house, Sage and Conrad were shuffled to the middle with the Ladies Fitzhugh ahead of them and Keelan and Silas directly behind.
Sage found no hardship in reaching for Conrad’s arm, feeling Keelan’s smile at the gesture without needing to see it.
Their difference in height was enough that it was more comfortable for Sage to curl his fingers just above Conrad’s elbow.
The strength he felt there under the man’s thin shirt made it absurdly hard to keep his fingers still.
Upon further inspection, Sage realized that Conrad was not the only one dressed down for their outing.
Silas was almost always dressed without a jacket, and Torquil often did as well, but even Keelan and Cyril had taken a similar approach with their wardrobes.
Emrys and Wyndham had worn nothing but their shirts and trousers.
Even those wearing dresses seemed to be lacking the usual frills and accessories one might expect.
“I did not realize this was to be such a casual affair,” Sage said to Conrad without looking at him. The lush, rain-heavy grass was leaning in on both sides of the path, and he was focused on keeping the droplets that had collected on each blade away from his light-colored trousers.
“You should’ve come to breakfast,” Conrad teased. “We discussed it at great length before we left.”
“And you easily could’ve come to tell me at any point.”
The words left Sage’s mouth before he gave pause to consider them.
Conrad had no reason to do such a thing.
He was not responsible for looking after Sage’s wellbeing.
In all likelihood, Sage would not have wavered on his choice of outfit regardless.
He’d worn light colors to help keep cool under the sun, and he was hardly interested in seeing his skin freckle, thus a hat was entirely necessary—at least until they reached their destination.
“You’re right,” Conrad said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I should’ve gone up to tell you. Forgive me?”
Sage could see Conrad looking up at him out of the corner of his eye as he waited for a response. Heat built beneath his cravat and he cleared his throat before shaking his head.
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
It was for the best that Conrad had not come back to the room that morning.
Before selecting the clothes he thought best for their jaunt to the lake, Sage had spent an inordinate length of time making use of the small jar of oil he’d left on the bedside table since the first night he put it there.
Apologizing to Roger might’ve earned him more generous praise from Conrad—admittedly one of the reasons he made use of the oil—but until he found the fortitude to be more honest with Conrad than he’d already been, he was left to take care of himself in a way he hadn’t needed to in a very long time.
With his hands in his pockets, Conrad shrugged. Sage’s grip on his bicep tightened far more than he meant for it to when he felt the muscle flex against his palm. Stars above, he was hopeless.
“Either way, it will not matter once we reach the lake.”
Sage’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”
“Wyndham,” Cyril called pointedly from somewhere behind them.
His voice carried easily to where Roger and Wyndham were guiding from the front.
It was quiet all around them, save for the gentle rustling of trees and bugs in the grass.
“Is it truly a lake, or more of a pond? I daresay I could never tell the difference aside from size.”
“Oh!” Roger said excitedly. “It has everything to do with sunlight, Cyril. If the water is shallow enough for plants to grow, it is a pond, and if it’s too deep then it would be considered a lake.”
Wyndham turned to look over his shoulder with a smirk and gestured to Roger with an upturned palm, as if to say, there is your answer.
“So which is it?” Harriet demanded.
“A lake, to be sure,” Wyndham said as he turned back around. “Though the part we’ve gotten the most enjoyment out of is not so deep as to make you wonder what might be lurking beneath the surface.”
Lady Imogen shuddered. “I have no interest in testing that theory, thank you very much.” Her wife patted her arm supportively.
Before long, the stretch of water they’d all been anxiously awaiting to see came into view, and the entire party clamored to offer their thoughts on how gorgeous it was.
Roger began to point out and name the various plants as they passed by, explaining why they grew so well in the damp soil there.
As the birch trees and young willows became thicker, the grass gave way to spindly reeds and unruly ferns swaying gently enough as to make them appear mindfully curious about their visitors.
The dirt path ended at a wooden dock that stretched out over the water, where more plants reached from below the surface along the very edge.
The rich color and condition of the wood indicated that it was something Wyndham and Roger had installed since taking ownership of the property.
Sage was fairly certain he’d seen a watercolor painting of this exact scene hanging in the sitting room.
“Finally!” Emrys shouted, startling Sage out of his trance. With another whoop of excitement, the man went bursting by at a full sprint, his footfalls changing tone from solid to something more hollow when he reached the dock, and then took a flying leap off the end and into the water.
Sage stared in horror until Emrys resurfaced with a laugh.
“At least he removed his shoes,” Torquil said breezily from where they were crouched to do the same.
With a sweeping glance, Sage realized that everyone was removing their shoes, save for the Ladies Fitzhugh, who were helping each other into the small boat tied to one of the short posts of the dock instead.
“We’re swimming ?” Sage asked incredulously.
Conrad grinned up at him.
“It’s the perfect day for it,” he said, two fingers hooked into the heels of his discarded shoes as he stood upright.
One of the servants was making quick work of collecting them to place in an orderly fashion at the edge of the path.
Conrad’s attention moved to the buttons of his waistcoat.
“You’d better hurry. With all those clothes, you’ll still be undressing by the time we’re all ready to get out. ”
After a final mischievous smile, Conrad spun on his heel, darted toward the dock, and jumped, gripping his knees as he splashed into the water.
Silas and Keelan were next, holding hands as they went, followed by a very enthusiastic Harriet and her much more reluctant admirers.
Roger and Wyndham took a far more civilized approach to entering the water as they stepped in from the bank, Wyndham keeping a supportive hand on Roger’s upper back the entire time.
Emrys held his arms up for Torquil and did a terrible job of catching them when they finally hopped off the edge of the dock into the water.
Sage was left standing alone in the sea of abandoned waistcoats, stockings, and a couple pairs of trousers being collected and neatly folded.
One of the servants offered him something to sit on—a towel, he now understood, not a blanket—and he allowed them to spread it out on the dock for him.
Nobody seemed to notice that he had not joined in until Torquil swam over, pulled themself up out of the water, and plopped wetly onto the edge of the dock.
“You do not care for swimming?” they asked, dark curls dripping.
“I do not,” Sage confirmed.
Torquil waved off the towel offered to them and settled with their back against one of the sturdy posts, one knee bent to their chest and the other leg hanging down into the water. The sopping white linen of their shirt and drawers left nothing to the imagination.
“It brings back fond memories of my childhood,” Torquil mused. They both watched as Emrys emerged noisily onto the bank a short distance away, followed by Silas and Keelan, Conrad, and Harriet.
Emrys cupped his hand against his mouth and called out his brother’s name, followed by, “Come and give your darling husband something to fantasize about!”
Wyndham rolled his eyes but placed a kiss on Roger's temple and began a lazy backstroke toward the shore. “Roger has no need for fantasizing,” he called back. “He knows he can have anything he wants, if he hasn’t had it already.”
Roger’s eyes went wide as he kicked his legs and arms to propel himself nearer to the dock.
When he brought one hand up to hold onto the edge, water flung from his fingertips onto Sage’s towel, nearly onto his trousers.
Sage’s lip curled slightly but he said nothing, as Roger hadn’t even noticed it happen.
“I know he says such things only to rattle me,” Roger muttered abashedly. He’d taken off his spectacles before getting into the water. It was odd to see him without them.
Torquil chuckled. “Yes, but we also know it’s the truth.”